Chapter 1172: Surprise and Astonishment

The Rebellious Courtyard, shrouded in endless darkness and chaos, remained as peaceful and serene as ever today. Amorn of the Great Deer lay motionless, prostrate among the floating boulders and shattered remnants of ancient ruins, his entire being bathed in a faint, sacred radiance. Mylmina, meanwhile, did not immerse herself in the neural network as usual; instead, she silently paced in slow circles beside Amorn.

The scene resembled a colossal ghost, as large as a clock tower, drifting restlessly beside the god of nature.

After pacing an indeterminate number of laps, Amorn finally broke the silence. “Still not done circling?”

“I’m just worried that if I plug into the network, you’ll turn around and report me to the administrators,” Mylmina stopped and shot the god of nature a fierce glare from beneath her veil of mysterious mist. “I’ve helped you so much, and you’d just rat me out?”

“…But you seemed to enjoy the card game last time…” Amorn muttered helplessly. “Even Duvalet surrendered, yet you refused to leave that space…”

Mylmina responded with a sharp look, and the Rebellious Courtyard fell into a long, heavy silence.

After an unknown stretch of time, Amorn’s voice finally echoed through the dim chaos. “Time really flies these days.”

Mylmina watched him quietly for a few seconds. “Was time ever slow? Thousands, even tens of thousands of years pass in the blink of an eye. Before we realize it, mortal dynasties have risen and fallen, generation after generation… so fast it makes even gods dizzy.”

“That’s different,” Amorn said softly. “Back then, time felt like a series of repeating illusions to me. The world changed rapidly, but none of it concerned me. The thousands of years I experienced were like the same day repeating endlessly—a very, very long day. But now, the time we live through is truly our own.”

“Why the sudden nostalgia?” Mylmina paused, then sat down on a nearby boulder. “Isn’t it nice to just immerse yourself in the neural network every day and not think about anything?”

“I was just wondering… how much longer can this kind of time last?” Amorn’s voice was calm, almost unreadable, though the steady white glow surrounding him dimmed slightly. “You often venture deep into the Shadow Realm. You must know the situation there… The edge of the Deep Realm has been unstable lately, hasn’t it?”

“Didn’t expect you to lie here for three thousand years and not waste all that time,” Mylmina said, surprised, then shook her head. “The Deep Realm is still the Deep Realm, overlapping with the Abyss in a tenuous balance. You know I wouldn’t dare get too close to its edge—that would trigger a reconnection. But I can still sense the clear echoes of mortal thoughts there. Those echoes outline the boundary of the Deep Realm, and overall, the boundary remains stable.”

“That’s somewhat reassuring… You know, when the minor demon tide struck seven hundred years ago, someone triggered the explosion of the Deep Blue Well. That reckless act stopped the tide from spreading further but nearly shattered the reflection between the Deep Realm and the upper domains. The boundary blurred almost to the point of vanishing… I truly thought the world was ending.”

“Tell me about it. I nearly died of fright too. That massive Deep Blue Well just went boom. I was observing human mages experimenting with arcane purification at the edge of the Thoughtstream when suddenly—boom—the connection to the entire real world was severed. When I opened my eyes again, Gondor was gone…”

Amorn listened quietly to Mylmina’s somewhat exaggerated, un-goddess-like account. When she finished, he suddenly asked, “Be honest—weren’t you the one who triggered the Deep Blue Well back then?”

“Why would you suspect me?” Mylmina gave him a look as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m the kind of goddess who dodges even mortal prayers whenever possible. Do you really think I’d take on something so risky, something that could easily backfire and take me down? Especially since I was slow to react and didn’t even realize the sun’s orbit was off…”

Amorn remained unmoved, calmly stating his reasoning. “The Deep Blue Well is the source of magic. To detonate it requires channeling immense primordial magic energy. You are the most likely candidate to have done it. As for the motive… whether you want to admit it or not, you are a goddess born from mortal thought. Protecting mortals is your highest instinct, regardless of your personal wishes.”

Mylmina stared into Amorn’s crystal-forged eyes. After a few seconds of silent confrontation, she smiled wryly and shook her head. “…For a moment, I almost wished I was the brave goddess you describe, the one who took that step to protect mortal civilization. But sadly, the one who triggered the Deep Blue Well over seven hundred years ago was not me.”

“Not you?” Amorn’s voice held genuine surprise. “Then who?”

“I don’t know. But many gods who once sheltered the Gondor Empire could have done it. You’re the chief god of the Elven pantheon and haven’t paid attention to the human world for three thousand years, so you probably don’t understand the Deep Blue Well well. Your impression of it is… somewhat inaccurate.

“It is indeed a powerful energy source, but it shouldn’t be narrowly called the ‘source of magic.’ Deep within the surging magical currents of the Deep Blue Well lies a vast ‘network’ that spans the entire planet and even branches into multiple realms. It’s like a complex waterway system, including both surface rivers and underground aquifers. This network contains not only primordial magic but also tides from the Elemental World, echoes from the Shadow and Phantom Realms, and even parts of mortal thought that connect to its deeper tributaries. So, the one who could interfere with the Deep Blue Well isn’t just a ‘magic goddess.’

“The Elemental Gods, the Holy Light, the Blood God, even the Fertility Triad—and that straightforward War God—any of them could have triggered the Deep Blue Well if they had the will at the time.”

Listening to Mylmina’s explanation, Amorn fell silent. He did not doubt her judgment on the Deep Blue Well but found himself even more perplexed by her answer. After some thought, he finally broke the silence. “Whoever did it back then couldn’t have escaped unscathed…”

“You’re right,” Mylmina nodded. “Though I have no clues, simple calculations show how massive that explosion was. It didn’t just destroy a human empire in the real world—the backlash should have been enough to breach the defenses of the divine realm and severely wound the god who triggered it. Of course, that was seven hundred years ago. Mortals have flourished again, and except for those of us who’ve gone rogue or that unlucky War God, all gods have more followers now than back then… The brave one who triggered the Deep Blue Well should have recovered by now, right?”

Amorn was silent for a moment, then softly murmured to himself, “…Whoever they are, I salute them.”

Mylmina nodded, seeming about to say more, but before she could, she suddenly sensed a new presence entering the chaotic darkness. She looked toward the source of the aura, a faint smile appearing beneath the mysterious mist. “Looks like we have a visitor in our little courtyard.”

Amorn sensed it too but immediately contradicted her. “This is my courtyard—you’re the one refusing to leave!”

“No need to fuss over that. As if you’re really the owner here,” Mylmina replied casually, then fixed her gaze on the figure passing through the protective barrier and approaching. When the visitor drew near, she spoke again. “Gawain, what brings you here today?”

The visitor was none other than Gawain, who had just rushed from the city to the depths of the Rebellious Fortress. He came alone, without any attendants. Behind him, in the Imperial Computing Center of Cecil City, numerous technicians had already taken their posts. Anti-divinity shields and non-directional thought barriers were ready. Several security teams, twelve node scholars, and Narithil Duvalet were all monitoring the situation in the Rebellious Courtyard.

Passing through a holographic isolation wall, Gawain entered this “resting place of gods,” formed from countless shattered floating boulders and ancient ruins. He stopped before Mylmina and Amorn, looking up at the towering lady in a black gown, her lower body swirling like mist, her face marked by curiosity.

“I’ve come to ask you some questions, Lady Mylmina.”

“Questions?” Mylmina’s tone rose slightly. At the same time, she noticed the magical devices scattered around suddenly shift. Many that had been running at low power now ramped up. Crystals that had been stuck in slots floated into the air. Dim runes brightened. Blue-white sparks danced between metal supports. A buzzing hum rose from all directions, growing louder.

The massive, complex defense system had activated—and with impressive force. Mylmina’s mist-shrouded eyes flickered with light as her voice echoed from above. “Looks like your questions aren’t ordinary, Gawain.”

“…Could you ask somewhere else?” Amorn’s voice followed, noticing the sudden surge in the defenses. A hint of unease crept into his tone. “I just want some peace and quiet…”

“There aren’t many defenses here, and they can’t be moved,” Mylmina said lightly, glancing at Amorn. “Why don’t you move somewhere else yourself?”

“…Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything,” Amorn sighed.

“Don’t be so tense,” Gawain smiled faintly, watching these two retired gods who were increasingly showing human-like traits. Their casual, un-godly manner of conversation was actually good news to him. The closer their personalities came to mortals, the more the chains of divinity around them loosened. “This is just a precaution. I’m not even sure if my questions will touch on the bridge between gods and mortals. Maybe it’ll just be an ordinary chat, and no one will get hurt…”

“Do you really believe that yourself?” Mylmina said. “What about that dragon named Melita Pernia?”

“…That was all due to inexperience back then,” Gawain said instinctively, then immediately caught himself. “Wait a minute—how do you know about her?”

“We overheard it when we were playing cards with Lady Enya…” Amon quickly chimed in from the side.

Gawain: “…”

So what exactly do these three retired gods do in their spare time?! They’re so obsessed with card games that they ended up burning through the empire’s three most advanced neural interface devices just to gather and play?!

The sudden, shocking realization nearly threw Gawain’s thoughts into chaos, almost making him forget the reason he came today. Luckily, after a brief pause, he regained his composure, cleared his throat to break the awkward silence, gathered his thoughts, and fixed his gaze back on Mimirna.

“Lady, I’d like to ask you about the Violet Kingdom.”

Mimirna blinked in surprise. “What kingdom?”

“The Violet Kingdom.”

“The Violet Kingdom?” There was genuine confusion in Mimirna’s voice. She seemed to take a moment to match the name with her memories before slowly responding, “I remember now… There is indeed such a country in the mortal world. But why are you suddenly asking about them?”

“Their way of operating is too mysterious. Recently, we’ve discovered many suspicious activities from them over the past six hundred years. I’m concerned they might pose some kind of… potential threat to the newly formed alliance,” Gawain chose his words carefully as he spoke. “Of course, without sufficient evidence, I can’t make any rash judgments against any nation. So for now, this is just a suspicion. That’s why I came to you—to confirm the situation…”

“I understand what you mean, but why come to me?” Mimirna still looked puzzled.

This time Gawain was the one caught off guard. He looked up at the former goddess before him. “Well, obviously because the Violet Kingdom is a land of mages, and you are the goddess of magic…”

“But those mages aren’t my followers,” Mimirna said casually.

The courtyard fell into sudden silence. Both mortal and divine held their breath. The only sound left was the low hum of the arcane devices running nearby.

“…You’re saying the mages of the Violet Kingdom don’t worship you—the goddess of magic—not just a few, but all of them?” After a long pause, Gawain finally processed the shock. He stared at the goddess who once held dominion over mortal magic, feeling utterly bewildered and incredulous. “The entire Violet Kingdom has no followers of yours?!”

“Exactly,” Mimirna answered matter-of-factly. “There’s no connection between the Violet mages and me. Since the day I became conscious, I’ve never established any bond with any living being on that land. Well, I know that sounds pretty strange…”

(System glitch, reposting)

(End of chapter)